Assassins and the Agents Who Love Them
by brightblue
Summary: Post-ep for Endgame. McGee and Tony commiserate over the events of the episode.


**Disclaimer:** Clearly they are not mine. If they were, a lot more would be happening in the bathrooms of NCIS between Tony and Ziva than flirty conversations.

**Rating:** T (Nothing worse than the show!)

**Spoilers:** HUGE for Endgame. Because this is a post-ep fic. See how that works?

**AN:** Happy Veteran's Day! Thanks, vets, for your service to this country. Because of you, I have today off of work and so could stay in bed until 11am writing this story. It was a quick and dirty job, but hopefully fun nevertheless.

**Assassins And The Agents Who Love Them**

A drink, that's all he needed. One drink to chase away the foul taste this case had left in his mouth and he'd be good to go. Onward and upward, a new path was opening before him and he had to open his mind to accept it. Destiny awaited!

He just needed a drink first.

"Tim! I thought I might find you here."

McGee looked toward the bar to find that Tony had beaten him to the punch. Suddenly glad to not be drinking alone, Tim hurried to take the stool next to his partner.

"I found you, I think," he murmured as he took in Tony's appearance. Just how long had Tony been sitting at this barstool? To McGee, it looked like Tony was only one drink into the night but looks could clearly be deceiving.

"I figured you might be needing a drink tonight, McMark." Tony signaled for the bartender. He downed the rest of his drink, something amber colored and probably strong, in one gulp. "Turns out, I need one as well. Or five." He plopped the empty glass on the bar with a clunk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The bartender, a pretty young woman, looked at Tony in amusement. Tony gave her his most charming smile. "Another round, Nicki! And be a dear and catch the tardy one up."

Nicki smiled back and went to make the drinks.

"Oh, Tony, I really shouldn't…" McGee protested as a tumbler of some very strong whiskey found its way in front of him. He sniffed it warily. He had been thinking more along the lines of a beer. A light beer. It was a work night, after all.

"Nonsense, Probie two-shoes." Tony raised his glass. Amber liquid sloshed up the sides, glittering in the light. "Tonight, we drink."

Tim took a tentative sip off his tumbler and coughed. Tony smacked him on the back.

"Easy there. Pace yourself." To demonstrate, Tony took a quick swallow of his drink. "In this club, we drink to excess slowly. All the better to curse our miserable existences."

"Which club are you talking about?" Tim cleared his throat and tried again. This time, the whiskey went down much smoother. He figured his manhood would be called into question if he asked for some Coke to dilute the alcohol. Tony seemed to be having no problem drinking the hard stuff.

"Assassins and the Agents Who Love Them," Tony announced with a flourish. Lowering his voice, he added, "We're a small, but select, group."

Tim frowned. "Oh. Well. I don't think what I had with Amanda…or whatever her name was…really qualifies as love."

DiNozzo waved his hands in the air. "Whatever! Love, lust, bone-chilling fear…what does it matter? They sneak into your mind, cloud your judgment, bend you to their will with their bedroom eyes and shiny hair. And then, when you're at your most vulnerable, thinking you'd do anything just to run your fingers along their impossibly soft skin, then BAM! They get you!" He pounded his fist on the bar for effect, causing McGee to jump.

"What?" Tim blinked. Though, thinking back, that was a pretty accurate description of how things evolved in his most recent relationship. He wouldn't dare tell Tony about the doe-eyes or the calculated way in which Amanda had searched his pocket for his phone, though.

"What, indeed, Tim. What indeed." Tony tipped some more whiskey down his throat. He stared off into the distance. "It's like an art form, the way they can twist your brain into knots with a well chosen phrase and sultry look. Sexy killers are genetically coded to mess with your head."

"Amanda did seem to know exactly what to say…" Tim mused. Mimicking Tony, he found pouring the alcohol straight down his throat gave his taste buds a break and allowed him to enjoy the pleasant effect of his body warming from the inside out, his nerves dulling and calm settling in as the events from the case floated farther from his mind.

"That is their way, Probie." Tony nodded sagely. "Innuendo, doublespeak, wordplay…. they are smart creatures, I'll give them that. But…older brother? _Really_? It's like she was trying to make my head explode."

"Huh?" McGee unsuccessfully tried to trace the conversation's trail.

"Nothing, nothing." DiNozzo tossed back the rest of his drink and signaled for another.

They were quiet a long moment, sipping their whiskey.

Tim finally broke the silence. "I can't believe I got played like that."

Tony looked sideways at McGee. He sighed. "Happens to the best of us, McGee. Let's face it. All it takes is a cute girl with a pretty smile and we're burnt toast."

"I should've known better," he protested, resenting the implication that he was no better than DiNozzo and so easily swayed by a short skirt.

"You _did_ know better," Tony reminded gently. He grabbed a handful of peanuts from a dish Nicki had sent their way and started chomping. "You figured it out before she could kill you."

"She still could've killed me if Kai hadn't…. you know." McGee couldn't even bring himself to say the words. He ran a hand over his face. When did this become his life? All he really wanted was a nice girl to share his time with, someone to buy flowers for and bring home for holidays. Was that really too much to ask?

"Crazy nurse could've killed us if it weren't for my bat senses." Tony smiled to himself and tugged on his ears, making a goofy face. Tim just rolled his eyes. But DiNozzo's antics lifted his mood.

After contemplating Nicki the bartender for a beat, Tony added, "What was with all the crazy ladies this case? I think I prefer coked out Marines."

"I'll drink to that," McGee saluted Tony with his glass before tossing back the remainder of his drink. He held up his empty glass for the bartender to see; she winked at him and moved to get him a refill.

"That's the spirit, Timmy!" Tony began to spin his tumbler on the bar. He seemed mesmerized by the way the dim lights played off the glass. "You didn't act surprised before," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Tim was confused. He tried to follow Tony's line of thought. "That Amanda was a spy? Oh, believe me, I was surprised. Well, sort of. I mean, I can't say that I get picked up at coffee shops a lot so I guess I shouldn't have been _too_ surprised but I definitely—

"Hey! McRamble! I wasn't talking about your femme fatale. I was talking about mine." Tony took a deep breath as McGee frowned at him. "You didn't act surprised about the name of our club…and the fact that it implies that I…you know, have _certain feelings_ for a certain ninja girl that are _definitely not _familial or exclusively friendly in nature."

McGee smirked into his whiskey. "I should act surprised to hear you admit you're in love with Ziva?"

"This is a new thing for me! Anthony DiNozzo is in love! It's a banner event!" Tony sat up straighter on his bar stool.

"You forget I was playing dead on the floor in Africa when you basically admitted it to her." Tim took a final swallow of his drink, deciding he'd had enough alcohol for the night. Placing it on the bar, he pulled out his phone and started deleting all traces of Amanda.

"Oh. Right." Tony loosened the collar on his shirt. He gestured to Nicki to close their tab.

"And then there's the whole working alongside of you two for four years now," McGee continued. He tried to hide a grin at all of Tony's squirming, concentrating on his phone instead. Reading one of Amanda's texts again, he felt a blush move across his cheeks and hurried to delete it before Tony could steal a peek.

"It's that obvious?" Tony gave a heavy sigh and started munching on more peanuts.

McGee patted Tony's shoulder. "Maybe you could benefit from my motivational CDs."

Tony scowled. "Your coffee shop girlfriend with the dirty text messages. Smoking hot Kai. Ziva. There can't be many more of them out there, right?"

McGee shrugged. "If there are, they can't all be that good looking."

"Yeah," DiNozzo agreed, a dreamy look in his eyes. "Did you see the way Ziva bent over in front of me at your desk today? It's like she was trying to kill me. Damn crazy assassin!"

Taking pity on his addled friend, Tim flashed Tony one of Amanda's text messages. Tony whistled low.

"I know," he sighed before deleting it. He put his phone away and pulled out his wallet.

"No, no," Tony waved him off, reaching for his own wallet. "It's on me, McRomeo."

McGee still beat him to the punch, stuffing a few bills inside the check folder before sliding it down the bar to the bartender. "It's the least I can do, DiNozzo. After all, my service in this club is only temporary." Tony started nodding in agreement. And kept on nodding. Rolling his eyes, McGee nudged him off his stool. "And I'm afraid you signed up for the lifetime membership."

Tony just grinned.

DiNozzo managed not to trip as McGee ushered him outside. He seemed more content to stare off into his memories rather than hail a cab, so Tim took care of that task for him.

"Did you see the way she flirted with Cowboy Chad?" Tony's face took on a dark expression as he bounced on his heels. "She was doing that on purpose, right? She had to be. I mean, no woman could actually find that drawl sexy."

Tim shook his head at the senior agent's insecurity.

A cab pulled up to the curb. Tony opened the door and stumbled inside. Remembering something from earlier in the day, McGee held the door open to prevent the car from leaving.

"Do you know Eric from the L.A. office?" He leaned down to Tony's level. DiNozzo managed to focus his gaze on him rather than on the air freshener dangling from the cabbie's rearview mirror.

"Funny, goofy guy with the glasses?" Tony scratched his chin as he leaned back on the leather seat. "I had a webcam chat with him once. Something about laser mics on the blackmarket?"

"Yeah. Abby was going on about him today." McGee tried to remember the man in question. "He is kind of strange, right?"

"Oh yeah," Tony nodded furiously. "Probably still living in mommy's basement with no one to talk to but his pet rock collection."

"That's what I thought," Tim murmured as he slammed Tony's car door shut. Tony yelled something at him through the window as the cab pulled away, but McGee couldn't make it out. He waved goodbye and hoped that Tony had the sense to take the cab straight home. Walking to his own car, McGee finally called up a mental picture of his time in L.A. It was just as he suspected: Eric was a drooling, dweeby beach bum with offensive cologne.

"That's what I thought," he repeated to himself as he strolled into the night and the frontiers of his destiny.


End file.
